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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28791750">Singin' In The Rain</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/supersoakerx/pseuds/supersoakerx'>supersoakerx</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Paterson (2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Fingering, Anal Oral, Butt Plugs, F/M, Feminisation, Gender Roles, Genderplay, Nipple Play, Pat receiving:, Sex Toys, bottom!Pat, squirting dildo, top!Wifey</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:28:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,982</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28791750</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/supersoakerx/pseuds/supersoakerx</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Pat and Wifey have a little genderplay, as a treat.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Paterson (Paterson)/Reader, Paterson (Paterson)/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Back to my roots and y’all, we’re really, fucking, doing it.<br/>Watch this for context: https://youtu.be/jPCJIB1f7jk - Tom Holland’s lip sync battle to Umbrella (2 and a half mins and you’ll never be the same)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hmnnh,” Pat stifles a giggle, nostrils flaring as he tries to keep his lips and head perfectly still, “that tickles, honey.”</p>
<p>You smile, your eyes locked on his mouth as you trace feather-light strokes of the red lip liner along the ticklish outer edge of his plush lips. “I know, baby,” you murmur, “but we want this to last, don’t we?”</p>
<p>“Mhm.”</p>
<p>“Wanna get this right?”</p>
<p>“Mmh.”</p>
<p>“Then, this is what we’ve gotta do, hm?” You connect the lines and lean back, assessing your work before going in again to trace more decisively along his lips, and colour them in just a little bit.</p>
<p>Pat loves watching you do this. Pretty him up like this. He’d liked watching you sharpen the liner pencil, too, and swipe the tiny brush head along the little red bullet of lipstick. All these special rituals. He liked how focused you were on him, how much care you took with him, liked being the object of your undivided attention as you concentrated to get the right colours in the right places. He liked that you were making him up, really properly making him up, like you do to your own face. Like he was your little doll.</p>
<p>“Now,” you lean back again, assessing his features with a hum, “lipstick first, then another coat of mascara.” You’d let him hold the lipstick, and the lip brush, and he felt very helpful and important, being trusted with something so precious.</p>
<p>Now, you hold your palm open to him, and he places the items gently in your hand, gazing up at you from his special chair with sweet, hope-filled eyes that barely contain his excitement, and his gratitude.</p>
<p>Tilting his head up <em>ever so slightly</em> with your finger under his chin, you run the small brush along his plump bottom lip, swiping a stripe of red on top of his naturally rosey-pink. You can’t help the crooning praise as it tumbles from your mouth.</p>
<p>“Oh, <em>baby</em>,” you coo with the first stroke, “you’re <em>so</em> pretty.”</p>
<p>Pat lets your words, the tone of your voice, and the sensation of the gentle brush of the bristles on his lip flood his body—from the blossoming warmth in his chest, to the ends of the hairs on his head, right the way down to his little toes.</p>
<p>“Thank you, honey,” he murmurs, blooming, and doing very well at not moving his lips as he speaks.</p>
<p>You hum, brushing the red pigment over his full lips with careful strokes—and the next thing you say jolts right through him, straight to his groin.</p>
<p>“This colour looks so good on you, baby. Prettiest little doll I ever saw, Pat.”</p>
<p>The small sound whimpers in his throat before he can stop it, and it’s not a light, bright warmth rushing through his veins anymore.</p>
<p>It’s a dark, sticky, smouldering heat, that pools in the pit of his gut, deep down in his core.</p>
<p>You’re pleased to see the little spots on Pat’s cheeks where you’d earlier placed the blush, now flush a deeper, natural pink. His fingers flex on his thighs, gripping the smooth-shaven flesh, and your gaze tracks to the outline of his stiffening erection between his legs, bulging his checked boxers.</p>
<p>“Mmm,” you run the little brush through the red lipstick again. “You’re gorgeous, baby,” you purr, swiping the colour over his cupid’s bow, “blushing so pretty for me.”</p>
<p>Another small, soft whine. Pat’s fingers itch to touch you.</p>
<p>“And these lips, my God, Pat,” you focus in, leaning ever closer, so close you’re sure he’ll feel your breath on his face as you brush the lipstick onto his upper lip, “they are just stunning. I don’t think you realise, do you?”</p>
<p>He swallows hard, hands fisting the hem of his boxers. Every part of him is singing, blooming, rising to your praise.</p>
<p>“Pretty lashes too,” you murmur, admiring how they fan out over the tops of his cheeks. You whisper, “very sexy,” and another high hum gets trapped in Pat’s throat.</p>
<p>A few more passes of the tiny brush, and his lips are ruby red, criminally kissable. You card through his soft hair gently, your fingertips grazing his scalp, and Pat positively preens at the touch. “Open your eyes, pretty baby.”</p>
<p>Pat lifts his lids slowly, blinking sight back into his eyes after being lulled into such a state of relaxation. He feels so pampered. So loved. Cherished, the way you smile at him.</p>
<p>“You wanna do what I do, Pat?”</p>
<p>He does. Of course he does. He nods, “yes, honey?”</p>
<p>You pluck a tissue from the nearby box and fold it in half. “Like this,” you say, and with your bare lips you show him how to blot off excess lipstick. “You wanna try?”</p>
<p>Pat nods eagerly. You hold the folded tissue to his mouth, and the utmost concentration with which Pat closes his lips around the material—focusing to make sure he does it right—is one of the most endearing things you’ve ever seen him do.</p>
<p>“Perrfect, baby,” you praise him, then unfurl the cloth-like paper to show him the pigmented stamp his beautiful lips made. “Look, Pat. Look how pretty your little lips look, baby.”</p>
<p>Your husband beams, so full of the sweetest joy. The things you do for him, to him, with him, make him feel weightless.</p>
<p>He wants to kiss you—hard—and rub his clothed need up against you, put it inside you, but he knows he’ll only undo all the work you’ve done if he follows that instinct.</p>
<p>“You can say it, baby,” you encourage him. You thread your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, and gently rub your fingertips back and forth along his scalp at the base of his skull. “You can say your lips are pretty, Pat. Because they are.”</p>
<p>Pat’s eyes flutter. “Mm,” he hums, loving this as much as when you brushed his hair earlier, “pretty. Honey.”</p>
<p>You press a kiss to his hairline, before picking up the mascara. With your instruction, Pat had learned quickly how to close his eyes over the wand and coat his beautifully bovine lashes as you gingerly wiggled it. “One more coat, baby?” you ask, the mascara wand coming free of the cylinder with a pop. “Then we’ll get you dressed.”</p>
<p>“And you too, peaches?” Pat replies, adjusting as his cock fluctuates with differing levels of arousal while you make him up all pretty.</p>
<p>There’s just a hint of a plea in his voice, a little bit of need, as if he’s seeking reassurance that this thing you two had cooked up was definitely coming, was happening, was going to give him the release he’d been craving, soon soon soon.</p>
<p>“Yeah, baby,” you murmur, “peaches too.”</p>
<p>You wink at him, and Pat’s luscious, lipstick-reddened lips break into a happy, toothy grin.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A little while later, Pat stands beside the bed as you check him over, eagerly awaiting your approval.</p>
<p>His soft dark hair is brushed back from his face and fixed with some hair spray, and you’d worked his handsome face into even more of a thing of beauty by touching up his brows and adding mascara, blush and ruby-red lipstick—and left all his beauty marks completely untouched. Your husband wears a front-fastening satin corset that fits around his torso—called an underbust because it sits just under his broad chest and leaves all of his wide shoulders bare to your view—as well thigh-high black fishnets, and the softest, silkiest, laciest black g-string you could find.</p>
<p>“Oh,” you gasp, “I almost forgot.” You grab the shoebox from the dresser, but pause as something else catches your eye. You pluck a small glass bottle from the tray and spritz a delightfully bright, sexy floral perfume onto either side of Pat’s neck. “Wrists,” you say to him, and he holds out upturned palms for you to spray more of the lovely scent onto his skin.</p>
<p>Pat lets the perfume waft around him, his eyes closing as he breathes in the smell of it. “Smells like the one I got you.”</p>
<p>“Mmhm. It is, baby,” you put the bottle back in the tray that houses your other perfumes. “My new favourite.”</p>
<p>Pat smiles, and opens his eyes to find you kneeling down and taking his new shiny black heels from the shoebox.</p>
<p>But he can’t take his eyes off your cock. It fit snug and secure into your harness, realistic with veins and a ridge ringing the silicone head. The colour of it even looked like, looked like it could be—Pat gulps, his own dick starting to pulse—looked close enough that it could really be your flesh.</p>
<p>You wear a modest pair of black panties beneath your harness, with a pocket near your clit for a vibrator, and your breasts and the pigment of your nipples are hidden behind a plain black bralette. Nothing too fancy: simple and discreet for today’s purpose, but it doesn’t phase him. Pat pictures your erect buds anyway, pictures you playing with one while you stroke your fake dick as he edges himself with a fleshlight.</p>
<p>“All done, baby,” you say, tapping one of his ankles and standing from the ground to put the empty shoebox back on the dresser.</p>
<p>Pat didn’t even notice that you’d slipped the heels onto his stockinged feet, and only just realises how much higher from the ground he is. He feels a little wobbly on the thin heels, but mostly… mostly he feels <em>sexy</em>.</p>
<p>You turn back to him and take his hand, running your thumb over his knuckles. You murmur, “You’re beautiful, Pat.”</p>
<p>Paterson’s eye crinkle in a smile first. He tries to stop his lips from curling into a big grin as he gazes at you, but your words and the light of love in your eyes sends his heart to bursting.</p>
<p>“Come see,” you say, gently tugging his hand and gesturing to the mirror above the dresser. “Come see what I see, baby.”</p>
<p>Pat ducks down a little to the mirror, and blinks a few times before his brain registers what he’s seeing. Made up, dressed up, he feels incredibly desirable—and <em>desired</em>, by his wife.</p>
<p>“Shit, honey,” he whispers, taken with the way you’ve painted his lips, coated his lashes, cinched his waist. He stands and looks at himself side on, the way his swollen cock bulges the pretty lace of his thong, the way the heels push his ass cheeks up.</p>
<p>You can’t help but smile at the way Pat appraises himself, and you give him all the time he needs to check himself out from different angles. He’s so confident like this, his eyes lingering on his own form, that you decide—you’ll definitely stage a photoshoot with him another time.</p>
<p>When he finally turns to look at you, you murmur huskily, “get on the bed, Pat.”</p>
<p>He goes to bite his lower lip but stops himself, remembering the rich red lipstick you’d coated his lips with. “Yes, peaches,” he says, his eyes a potent mix of eager anticipation and lustful desire.</p>
<p>Paterson clambers up the bed, and you eye the black thong nestled neatly between his ass cheeks, barely hiding the clean-shaven, puckered little ring of muscle you’d soon be making your way into and the lace cupping his smooth balls.</p>
<p>He flips onto his back and settles against the pillows, and you make your way to the edge of the bed as anticipation licks up your spine. “Spread your legs, doll,” you say, a little experimentally, and Pat’s reaction tells you you made the right choice. He almost whimpers aloud, you see him stop it, as his eyes fall half-lidded and his hips subtly rock against the lacy lingerie struggling to contain his cock.</p>
<p>Paterson spreads his legs a little wider, his heels catching on the bed cover. You crawl up onto the bed between his legs, and ghost your lips along his stiff, lace-covered cock.</p>
<p>Pat watches your silicone dick hang between your legs as you crawl to him, the dark desire in your eyes sending shivers up his spine. He’s almost not prepared for the caress of your hot breath and lips on his cock and his hips tilt in reflex, and when your warm body scales up his, pressing kisses along his sternum, he sighs with pleasure and reaches to hold your waist.</p>
<p>You grab his wrists and pin his hands to the mattress, either side of his head—and Pat’s hips undulate once more. You nuzzle into his neck and his eyes flutter. “You smell so pretty, baby,” you croon into his ear, before nibbling on his lobe and kissing down his neck. “You look so good, Pat. Magnificent,” you hum onto his skin, kissing and licking further down the long column of his neck. “I think you saw, but,” you press a hot, wet, open-mouthed kiss to the juncture of his neck and shoulder, “you got me hard, doll.”</p>
<p>Pat groans when you rake your teeth across his skin and suck on his sensitive flesh, your words and your touch lighting up his nerves. You lick and kiss the delicate spot and adjust so your silicone dick slides along his throbbing flesh one, giving him some friction with every roll of your hips.</p>
<p>“Mmmhh,” Pat moans as you roll your hips and kiss his neck and throat. You’re so into this, you know exactly which of his buttons to push and you don’t hesitate to push them. He wants to give back, wants to say something back to you but he must’ve been in his head for too long again—because you’re already palming his cock and whispering into his ear.</p>
<p>“Oh, baby,” you coo breathily, caressing his dick through the lingerie, “you’re so hard too, Pat.” He whimpers and you wrap your palm around his throbbing length and use the lace to stroke him. “So thick and hot in my hand.”</p>
<p>“Ohh,” Pat sighs, his hips rising to meet your strokes, “<em>mmh</em> peach.” He turns his head to try to catch your lips in a kiss but you seize the other side of his neck, kissing and licking and sucking his flesh and he groans, a low sound from deep in his chest as he heats up all over.</p>
<p>You release his wrist and his cock and slink down his body a little ways. You sit up on him and rock your hips against his, sliding your palms down his broad, sturdy chest and massaging his flesh with your fingertips.</p>
<p>There was a reason you’d both chosen an underbust corset, and you can’t wait any longer for it.</p>
<p>Paterson’s nipples pebble under your touch, and you croon to him as you tease the flesh of his pectorals, purposefully ignoring the little pink buds of nerves. “Such a <em>big</em>, broad, chest baby.”</p>
<p>Pat sighs, his whole body melting onto the mattress beneath him.</p>
<p>You hum and say, “I can’t stop looking at these tits.” You run your thumbs lightly over his nipples and Pat sucks in a breath. The light catches on them, highlighting the erect buds and you tease him with just the pads of your fingers, rubbing in slow, light, tight circles.</p>
<p>“Hohhoney,” Pat shudders, clutching your thighs, making his big pecs jiggle a little.</p>
<p>“You’re so beautiful,” you whisper to him as you close your fingers around his nipples.</p>
<p>His face wrinkles in pleasure as you roll the two buds delicately between your thumb and forefingers. A jolt of pleasure shoots straight through his cock and he groans, lifting his hips up into yours and then arching his back, pressing his chest into your hands.</p>
<p>There’s more he wants, just a little more, but he doesn’t know if he’s got the guts to ask for it.</p>
<p>You lean down to his ear as you roll and tease his two perfect buds, and murmur so your breath fans over him, “mmm, I love your tits, baby.”</p>
<p>He moans, pushing up into every part of your body he can, grinding against your form. It’s right there, right on the tip of his tongue. He wants to say it so badly.</p>
<p>You nip his helix, suck his lobe, and whisper, “love your pretty pink nipples, doll,” as you flick your thumbs back and forth over his stiff buds.</p>
<p>“Oh God,” Pat sighs, feeling every spike of pleasure resonate in his dick. He screws his eyes shut tight and finally blurts it out. “Suck my t-tits. Suck on my tits, peaches. Please honey.”</p>
<p>You press a trail of kisses down his neck, throat, and the centre of his chest, and bring your hands up to cup just under his pecs and push up, subtly squeezing his flesh.</p>
<p>Pat’s already panting hard beneath you, and you don’t tease him by getting him to repeat his desires. It’s enough—more than enough—that he’s let himself drop this far into this fantasy, and given himself permission to say whatever he wants to say and feel however he wants to feel.</p>
<p>“Good, baby,” is all you say before you lick a firm, wet stripe over one of Pat’s nipples, and wrap your lips around the swollen bud.</p>
<p>“Hhh, yes,” Pat moans, and his thick fingers curl into the hair at your nape, cradling you to his chest.</p>
<p>You hum onto his flesh to encourage him, and swirl your tongue around the hard peak as you grip his arms to keep his fingers anchored in your hair. You pull off this nipple with a small kiss and move quickly to his other, gliding your tongue over the pert, pink bud with long, wet licks.</p>
<p>“Oh,” Paterson groans, pushing his pec into your face as his grip subtly tightens in your tendrils of hair, “p-peach-es.”</p>
<p>He sounds breathless, and you chance a look up at your husband to find a natural flush rising in his cheeks, and his lipstick-reddened lips open in a silent sound of pleasure. You suck his bud and areola into your mouth and Pat drops his head back, letting loose a deep groan as you suck earnestly on his nipple.</p>
<p>Pat’s hips buck involuntarily, sending a flicker of pleasure up his spine as his cock rubs against the soft lace. When he starts to rock his pelvis, seeking more of that sensation, he feels the head of his cock nudge into a patch of sticky wet.</p>
<p>“Shit,” he gasps, “honey.”</p>
<p>“Mmm?” you hum, flicking your tongue while you suck on one nipple and rolling his other with your fingers.</p>
<p>“Ffuck, peaches.” Pat loosens his grip on your hair and fists the bed cover instead. “Baby, please. I’m—I’m leaking, honey.”</p>
<p>You ease off and press soft, gentle kisses to the flesh of his pec, and Pat sighs. You murmur, “You ready for me to lick you out, doll?”</p>
<p>“Oh fuck,” Paterson huffs hastily, “ohmyGodyes.”</p>
<p>You hum a laugh as you slide down his body, pressing kisses to the corset that encases his torso. You do the same when you reach his cock, kissing his flesh through the lace. “You’re bursting outta this thing, baby,” you murmur between gentle kisses as you dip under the thong and trace the tip of one finger around his ass hole. “Bursting the seams with your big cock.”</p>
<p>Pat gulps. “I’m so hard, honey.”</p>
<p>“I can see that, baby.”</p>
<p>“Hard like you.”</p>
<p>You grin and nod at him as you lap at the little patch of his cum that soaked the lace. “You weren’t kidding were you? Leaking and dripping everywhere.”</p>
<p>Pat’s eyes cross as his head lolls back onto the pillows.</p>
<p>“Lift your pretty pins up, would you baby?”</p>
<p>Pat’s used to this position, and his hip flexors seem to get more and more flexible each time. He hums as he lifts and bends his legs, holding them up by the backs of his stockinged knees to make his ass easier to get to.</p>
<p>“That’s good, Pat,” you croon as you gather the lube, plug and wipes closer to you from across the bed. You adjust his generous endowment so the head of his dick peeks out over the top of the lace, and you pull the black thong to the side. “Pretty little hole,” you praise him as you settle on your belly.</p>
<p>Paterson sighs as you start to kiss and suck his balls, and when you make your way down his smooth perineum with hotter, wetter licks and kisses, he starts to pant. You lick over his tight ring of muscle with the pointed tip of your tongue and Pat’s hips jolt—he groans—his balls bumping into your nose.</p>
<p>“Sh, sh,” you coo to him, “easy, baby.” You flatten your tongue and lick long generous passes over the delicate ridges of his hole.</p>
<p>Pat scrunches up the bed cover in his fists, hums in time with the strokes of your tongue, and when you swirl your tongue in circles around his sensitive ring he gasps and cries out. “<em>Yes</em> honey, yes honey, ohmyGod. Right there.”</p>
<p>His pretty pink hole clenches against your tongue, and you treat him to more firm, wet, sweeping circles. You glance up, looking past the flushed bulge of his cock and the smooth plain of his corseted belly to see his beautifully made-up face furrowed with pleasure. With closed eyes he licks at his bottom lip, then sinks his top teeth into it, lipstick and all.</p>
<p>You hum onto his hole and press your lips to his flesh, sucking as you lick over all the hypersensitive nerves in his soft skin.</p>
<p>Paterson releases his lip and groans—loud, his stomach rippling beneath the corset as he does it—and his fingers flex behind his knees.</p>
<p>You bring one of your hands up to replace his and murmur, “play with your tits, baby,” before your mouth returns to eating him out with kisses and licks and sucks.</p>
<p>Pat flicks open his eyes—dark dark dark with arousal—and slides his hand up his stomach to his chest. You watch each other as he tweaks a rosey-pink nipple and moans, open-mouthed and brazen, his pelvis tilting up again with the pleasure of it.</p>
<p>You hum a dark laugh onto his flesh. “Oh, that was a very needy sound, Pat.”</p>
<p>He whimpers, and his face pulls up into that pout: his big, pretty brown eyes are exaggerated by the licks of mascara and the subtle purse of his lips is even more gorgeous and dramatic with the crimson lipstick you’d painted on.</p>
<p>“Look at you,” you breathe onto his delicate skin, taking your hand from the back of his knee to smooth some lube onto your index and middle fingers. You press the silky fingertip of one finger to the centre of his ring of muscle and hike his stockinged leg up and back again. “You’re <em>trying</em> to look like a little slut, aren’t you?”</p>
<p>Pat nods. “For you, peaches.”</p>
<p>You rub your finger in tight, small circles around the very core of Pat’s ass hole, patiently waiting for his muscles to give and let you inside. They will soon, you’ve done this that many times. “Well you’re doing a <em>great</em> job, baby,” you say. “Such a pretty, slutty thing for me.”</p>
<p>Paterson moans and flexes his hips, his puckered pink hole clenching against your fingertip. He’s been ready for this for days now, weeks even—and every word of praise from you amplifies his desire, makes his spirit sing.</p>
<p>“Eager,” you smile at him, and flick your tongue up the top-most edge of his ring onto his perineum in rapid succession, while still pressing your finger against his tight, pink ring.</p>
<p>Pat cuts off a low whine in his throat and says, “want your dick, peaches.”</p>
<p>“I know,” you stroke his opening, putting a little pressure on the centre of his hole, “but I gotta get you wet for me, doll.”</p>
<p>He gasps so hard it sounds like a hiccup, and tries to talk through pleasure-laden sighs. “G-gotta stretch m-me out?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, baby,” you murmur throatily, “gotta get you ready to take my cock.”</p>
<p>Pat groans, squeezing and rolling one of his nipples, and like magic his pink ring clenches and sucks your finger into his tight heat.</p>
<p>“<em>There</em> we go,” you coo, immediately dipping your finger inside him to the knuckle before drawing back and pushing in again.</p>
<p>“Oh ffuhck,” Paterson moans, deep and breathy. He wants so badly to wrap his fist around his dick and stroke it in time with your finger—but he knows the end game. He tweaks his other stiff nipple and it lights up all of his nerves, ticking up his temperature and his heart rate. “Please,” he whispers. “Mmy peach. Please, baby.” He readies himself to say it, steels himself against it. “Hhoney, put it in my wet little hole.”</p>
<p>You gaze at him as you hook your finger inside him. “You’re so fucking pretty,” you say, and warmth blooms in Pat’s chest as you press your second silky finger to his pretty pink ring. “Let me in, baby, and I’ll put the plug in and you can suck me off.”</p>
<p>“Shit honey,” Paterson sighs, trying to spread his legs wider and offer more of himself to you.</p>
<p>You ease your second finger inside his ass and Pat sucks in a breath. “Fuck yes,” he whispers through gritted teeth, and then murmurs, “that feels so good in my little ass, peaches.”</p>
<p>“Mmm,” you hum in agreement, watching your glossy, slippery fingers work Pat’s tight ring loose. “Such a pretty pink, Pat.” You know he’s getting antsy, can tell it’s making him braver and bolder, but he’s still too tight on your fingers to work the plug in yet. “Such a tight little ring,” you croon to him, inching closer, “open up for me, baby,” – and you lick and suck his balls into your mouth.</p>
<p>“Aahgh,” Pat moans, his head dropping back against the pillows as he rocks against your fingers.</p>
<p>You hum onto his flesh as you finger him open, prising his muscles loose enough to fit the plug that’ll really stretch him out for you—and soon, moaning and panting and fucking himself lewdly on your fingers, he’s there.</p>
<p>“Please, honey,” he pants, “please. I’m ready.”</p>
<p>You slip your fingers from his ring, and Pat holds himself open by his ass cheeks while you wipe your hands clean and lube the four-inch, teardrop-shaped, vibrating butt plug. You’d found it in blue—a dark blue—because of course you did, for him.</p>
<p>You gently ease the plug inside him, crooning soft encouragements. With the toy at its widest point you murmur, “show me how you squeeze, doll,” and Pat hums as he clenches his hole over the smooth silicone, drawing it deeper and deeper until the toy is seated snug and firm inside him, cinched into place by his pink, squeezing ring.</p>
<p>Pat shudders, his lingerie-laced body undulating.</p>
<p>“Oh baby,” you coo to him. “You took the whole thing in your tight little hole. Took it so well, Pat.”</p>
<p>Pat’s body flushes with heat, and his cheeks blush as he bites his bottom lip. “Honey,” he breathes. He knows what’s coming next and his eyes, already glazed over with lust, gaze at you with need and longing.</p>
<p>You run your palms along his legs, your fingertips trailing over his fishnets. “You wanna get on your knees for me, doll?”</p>
<p>Pat gulps, nods his head.</p>
<p>You smile and jerk your head to the side, telling him to go on, and Pat’s quick to action. He lumbers off the bed and gets into position on his knees—a little uneasy in his heels, but he manages—and watches you intently as you swing your legs around to sit on the edge of the bed.</p>
<p>You drop your voice and murmur, “you wanna lick my cock?” while you grab the remote for Pat’s plug.</p>
<p>His mouth drops in a quiet gasp, and his dick twitches in his lace thong.</p>
<p>You spread your legs a little wider, and lean back on one palm, clutching the small bulb that’ll pump all the fake cum from the fake dick between your legs—and Paterson can’t take his eyes from it.</p>
<p>You wrap a fist around the base of your silicone dick and give it a small, subtle squeeze, just enough to make a little bead of pearly white liquid seep from the tiny hole in the tip.</p>
<p>Pat’s eyes widen and his lips part in wonder—exactly the reaction you were looking for. You murmur breathily, “see what you do to me, baby?” as you slowly glide your fist up the shaft.</p>
<p>Pat’s hips rock where he kneels, nudging his cock along his sexy lace panties and squeezing the plug in his ass. He gulps. “I see, honey.” Hesitantly he reaches a finger toward your dick, but stops himself.</p>
<p>“You wanna touch it?”</p>
<p>Pat nods.</p>
<p>“Go on, doll. Do it like I do for you.”</p>
<p>Paterson reaches and gently swipes his forefinger through the synthetic cum leaking from the tip of your silicone appendage, which, for all intents and purposes, looks and feels extraordinarily like the real thing. It’s even kept a little warmth, from when you heated it up earlier.</p>
<p>You gasp at his touch, slipping further into your role and encouraging him with the same pleased sound.</p>
<p>Pat smears the warm, white, silky cum around the head of your dick and you sigh, like he really is teasing your nerves.</p>
<p>He gazes at you in wonderous awe, and his warm brown eyes plead so prettily. Your husband says something that up until today, had only featured in his fantasies. “I wanna stroke your cock, peaches.”</p>
<p>You nod and lean back on both palms. “Make a nice, firm fist, Pat.”</p>
<p>He shuffles a little closer, his fingers trembling to wrap around your dick.</p>
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